


Chasing (Running From) What You Want (Don’t Want)

by grapefruitgalaxy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura/Shiro/Matt are romantic soulmates, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is insecure, Multi, Orphan Keith (Voltron), POV Alternating, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, also the other ships are mostly in the background, alternate title: phoebe overuses italics, an autobiography, angst? kind of?, it gets sort of explained, keith is real messed up about soulmates, kind of, the main focus is definitely klance but there will be meeting scenes for the others, there are romantic/platonic/familial soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapefruitgalaxy/pseuds/grapefruitgalaxy
Summary: Keith was born following the stars and running from soulmarks.Lance was born admiring the stars and chasing his soulmarks.Or a soulmate AU in which Lance is a hopeless romantic, and Keith wants nothing to do withanyof his soulmates.





	Chasing (Running From) What You Want (Don’t Want)

**Author's Note:**

> hello, this is my first fanfic and im really excited to share with you all!
> 
> i love soulmate aus and im glad i can share mine!
> 
> this fic is probably going to end up being 2-3 chapters long, and i don't know when it will be updated as i have two other fics im working on as well!
> 
> hope you like it!

Keith was born following the stars and running from soulmarks.

Riding around the country in a beat up 1996 Chevy Silverado, wind bustling through the rolled down windows and Johnny Cash blaring through the speakers was all Keith knew. The company of only Diana Kogane, a broad shouldered woman, all beautiful curves and laugh lines. A free spirit who was lulled into a life of responsibility that wasn't for her because of the mark permanently etched into her collarbone, and an affair she can't really make herself regret.

Spending nights trespassing on campgrounds and private property, setting up a nest of pillows and blankets in the bed of their pickup truck and watching the night sky. Dark hair splayed around tan shoulders, and childlike wonder as mother taught son everything she could about anything she wanted.

Endless amounts of paper and art supplies given to a young boy who loved the stars and loved to draw.

Meals from fast food restaurants and gas stations, money from seemingly nowhere even though Keith doesn't remember his mother working a day in his life.

Passing time any way they could, traveling wherever his mother decided she wanted to go.

It wasn't a standard childhood that Keith got, but it was one that he wouldn't trade for the world.

Mother and son sitting in front of a small, crackling, fire, calloused yet delicate fingers softly dragging through black hair. A gentle hum of a familiar melody, the name of which doesn't really matter. The rustle of trees in some random forest in some random state on land they certainly aren't supposed to be on. Cool breeze sending an occasional shiver down Keith's spine. A familiar warmth on Keith's back as he sits between his mother's outstretched legs, feeling more than hearing the voice rumbling behind him like silk. Leaning back on a pile of their belongings, truck on the opposite side of the fire from them, Keith felt content to stare at the reflection of him and his mother in the sleek metal.

As easily the gentle humming began, it faded out, leaving only the sound of insects chittering around them. Like second nature, Keith's small hand found its way to his left side, fingers brushing against the flowers and constellations to be found there. The walls of his mind relaxed, and he felt open. His mother chuckled before he felt one hand pull away from his hair, bumping into his back as it found its way to his mother's own left side. A swell of affection and tender love embraced his mind, the emotions would have filled Keith with warmth had they not been tainted by an underlying sadness. There was never a time where the sadness didn't linger.

Lips press tenderly on the back of Keith's head. “You could have simply said you were happy. I'm right here,” his mother spoke quietly, laughter dripping from her mouth like honey. A small giggle found its way from Keith's own mouth.

“It's not the same as letting you _feel_ it though,” replied the five year old.

Keith could feel his mother's smile in his hair. “I'm happy too.”

It was quiet for a small while, Keith contemplating his next words as he processed the poorly hidden negativity that drifted into his head from his mother.

Finally, “Are you really?”

A sigh.

“I was hoping you wouldn't notice. You're too observant, kiddo.” Her voice sounded a little hollow, forced, and the open soulbond abruptly closed off as his mother removed her hand from her soulmark. “I do feel sad.”

Keith too, removed his hand from his side, the walls around his mind lifting once more as he waited hopefully for his mother to elaborate.

“I'm sad because I miss your father,” said his mother, voice small.

“What was he like?” Keith asked, his voice curious.

A dry laugh.

Silence.

“He was funny. Devilishly handsome, you had to get it from somewhere, kiddo.” Hands pinched Keith's cheeks and gently tugged his face back and forth as he giggled and tried to tug them away.

“The two of us met a little late,” another dry laugh, “didn't stop me from falling head over heels though buddy.”

“You loved him?” Keith asked.

The response was immediate,no hesitation. “More than I'd ever loved anyone else.”

“Will I meet him?”

His mother's breath hitched, her body tensing. “No. Probably not.”

Keith's brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“That's not— he's not important Keith,” she said, voice hard, final.

If Keith had inherited anything from his mother, it was his persistence. “How come? Wasn't he your soulmate? I thought those were super important?”

Keith's mother resigned herself to answering a few more questions. “They seem important. But relationships are hard, Keith. Sometimes they don't— can't— work.”

“Even soulmates?”

“Yea. Even soulmates.”

It was quiet while Keith took in this new information. Then, “You loved him, though?”

His mother hummed affirmatively. “Too much.”

The boy hoped she might elaborate. She didn't. So he prodded again. “Did… did he love you?”

Keith realized he'd crossed a line at the uncomfortable silence that followed. His mother sighed after a while.

“Keith?”

“Yea?” The boy turned and look his mother in the eyes, pools of blue-violet, dark and stormy just like his own.

After a few moments of hesitation, his mother continued, “Soulmates aren't everything. Soulmarks just complicate life. That make sense, kiddo?”

Keith frowned. It didn't make sense.

But he nodded along anyway.

 

Less than a year later, Diana Kogane died chasing the stars and running from soulmarks.

Keith wishes he could cut the blue-violet hollyhocks and constellations out of his skin. Remove the permanent mark he's had since the moment he was born. Forget.

He doesn't.

He can't.

Alone, with only an empty void on the other side of his soulbond, Keith's beginning to see how soulmarks could complicate things.

It's starting to make sense.

 

**________**

 

Lance was born admiring the stars and chasing his soulmarks.

Riding around town in a minivan with one empty seat, popular songs drifting through the speakers, drowned out by bright laughter and loud voices. Soft, caramel hands buckling him safely in the middle seat. All gentle curves and hidden muscle, that’s what Maria McClain was. Curly ringlets hanging over her shoulder as she kisses Lance’s forehead, a woman perfectly suited to the life of a mother.

Sibling spats and rough-housing. Hearty laughs ringing through the air, a house packed with more people than should probably be comfortable.

Weekends spent camping near the coast. Lance and his siblings sharing a tent that’s all their own before the unknown just past the tarp chases them to the tent just a few feet away, curling up with their parents and far too many blankets.

NASA posters and telescopes on birthdays. Spending an afternoon covering his ceiling and walls in glow in the dark stars and sneaking onto the roof to stargaze.

Traditional Cuban meals for dinner and sharing stories from the day around the table.

It’s a rare quiet moment alone with his mother, he’d been caught climbing up to the roof to stargaze. She did as any good mother should and joined him. Lance finds himself sitting, leaning into his mother’s side while her arm is behind his back, a stable support to keep them mostly upright. The curly hair draped over his head tickles his face and neck as it’s tugged by the slight breeze. Shifting his gaze from the bright stars to his mother, Lance moves his hand behind him, pressing his palm against his lower back. A pleasant tingle spreads through his head as he feels his mind reach out for four bonds. His mother chuckles and is the first one to answer his emotions. One by one he feels waves of good vibes and a tired happiness emanate from each of his family members.

His sister’s mind gives the softest touch, while his brother’s is a bit abrasive, but a strong underlying affection shines through. His parents bonds are so incredibly similar, deep and all encompassing, yet distinguishable because of how familiar he is at reading into the emotions he’s given.

Just as easily as Lance had felt his family’s presences in his mind, they slipped away one by one, leaving him and his mother probing softly through each other’s feelings, until that eventually ended as well.

Shifting again to look at his mother, he found himself staring at the yellow and red flowers just under his mother’s chin. The colors mixed fantastically with her deep caramel skin. Lance’s father had the same mark mirroring the one he stared at now. A perfect soulmark for a perfect relationship.

“Tell me about you and _papá_ ,” he found himself blurting into the comfortable silence.

The woman laughed, her shaking shoulders jostling the boy next to her. “You already know all about us, _mijo._ ”

“I think I forgot. You should probably tell me again, to be safe,” Lance said, furrowing his brows and feigning a look of deep thought.

“Hmm, I do suppose you’re right. If you’ve forgotten you ought to remember.”

The six-year-old nodded as sagely as he could before he broke into a bright grin, his mother chuckling.

“Your father and I met when we were young,” she began. “Both of us were young and naive. The two of us were old enough to make our own decisions but not experienced enough to make the _right_ ones.”

Lance listened the lilting voice, warm with a faint accent. “Everyone told us that romantic soulbonds never worked out. We were told that there might be someone out there made just for you, but it doesn’t ever work the way you want it to,” her voice was full of nostalgia as she spoke softly into the night. She breaks into a broad smile, crinkles pinching her eyes. “They were all wrong. If you work for it, just like any other relationship, they can grow into something perfect.”

A soft hand reached up and cradled Lance’s face as an even softer pair of lips pressed against his forehead.

“That something perfect is my wonderful family, _Lancito._ ”

The grin on the boy’s face is broad and hopeful as he begins to speak. “Could I have something perfect like you and _papá_?”

“Yes. You can, but only if you work for it,” his mother shifted their faces so her brown gaze stared into the deep blue pools of her son’s eyes. “You need to know that it won’t come easily, and it won’t always, always be perfect, you might not even meet your romantic. But you can make a something beautiful with your soulmates. Does that make sense?”

Lance finds himself nodding, his smile wide and eyes bright.

 

**________**

 

Keith's decided that the best thing he could do as he was shipped from foster home to foster home was avoid attachments. He stayed reclusive and quiet, some families wanted it that way. Made their job much easier, he was easy to shove away to the back of their mind until he was no longer their problem. Other families tried to get him to open up. They were _too_ friendly, _too_ invested.

The easiest way to avoid attachments, Keith found, was to avoid _soulmates._

Most people don't want to commit to any sort of relationship, be it platonic or romantic, unless it was guaranteed. To many, if you didn't share a soulbond, you weren't worth the commitment.

This mentality worked in Keith's favor.

So once eight-year-old Keith decided this would be best, he went out of his way to avoid touching anyone. He covered his hands and insisted he be given long sleeves and pants. He kept to himself. Didn't put himself out there. Was perfectly content to sit in a corner and draw to his heart's content.

It worked well for a while, but as he grew older he  found that behavior was hard to keep.

As he aged out of the foster system, he needed to adjust. With a large sum of money that his mother had left for him, he went on to a new life almost immediately. He still avoided physical touch with new people if he could, but oftentimes it became unavoidable. At that point it was whether or not luck was on his side that day.

Logically, Keith knows he can't run from his soulmates forever. One day the four dime-sized dots on his body will have to bloom into new soulmarks, but he can try to delay it for as long as possible. Grasp onto any semblance of control he can get his hands on.

Being alone by choice is much easier, anyway.

 

**________**

 

Lance is loud and commands the attention of everyone within the same room as him. His enthusiasm alluring, drawing other children to him like moths to flame. His laughter is infectious and his voice lively. The boy _thrives_ under constant attention.

Lance has always been taught to appreciate connections, whether they be familial, platonic, romantic, or none of those things.

He just wanted to be loved and to spread love to others.

The best way for him to do just that, is to find hunt down his soulbonds relentlessly.

With every person he meets he shares a small handshake, a pat on the arm, an all encompassing hug. He brushes the skin of others as often as he can, but only when the other is welcome to the light touches.

Eight-year-old Lance was efficient and welcoming in his search for his soulmates. The three black dots on his body would grow into gorgeous paintings if if was the last thing he would do.

The older he got with more and more people finding their bonds around him had him disheartened but no less determined. Finally, in his sophomore year of high school he meets a new student, sharing a hesitant handshake with the nervous boy.

Tsuyoshi Garrett is a hulking giant of a boy, dark skin and intimidatingly large muscles hidden under a layer of soft padding. One look at his body would have even the strongest of bullies running in fear. One look at his face, rounded with baby fat he’s yet to lose has you melting. Round eyes framed by longish hair and a perpetual nervous slant to his brows gives him a welcoming aura.

When an odd tingle danced just under the skin on Lance’s right shoulder, and a weak wave of foreign emotions swept through his head for only a few seconds, Lance nearly cried in joy right then and there.

From then on Hunk now had his famous nickname and Lance a new best friend.

With one soulmate in tow, Lance just had to hunt down the other two.

 

**________**

 

Keith gave college and honest attempt, he really did. He wanted to go somewhere with his life, but three years into college at some elite flight school, one that could maybe get him into space, he'd dropped out. Nothing really made him feel like what he was doing was making him feel remotely happy. Now paying off debts for an education he wouldn't finish, Keith finds himself getting an apartment in a town not too far from where Garrison University was located.

It's a studio, a nicer one with a high ceiling and a loft above the kitchen tucked into the corner. His bed along with his art supplies are up and above prying eyes, a long red curtain hangs from the ceiling and drapes down to the floor, concealing the wooden railing when drawn. Keith's got a table, though he's never used it, and a small area of furniture surrounding a TV. It's nice, better than what most college kids could afford but it lacks any personalization. No posters, no pictures, and no artwork.

He's been living here all summer after he moved from the dorms at Garrison University, living a comfortable life and nabbing a full time job at a restaurant. Even as introverted as Keith tends to be, his job keeps him sane. His bosses, platonic soulmates who took over after the original owner had passed, are good company. Allura and Coran are good, kind-hearted people who simply love what they do. Having a job at _Voltron: Bar and Grill,_ gives Keith at least a temporary purpose and people whose company he enjoys.

Most days it might be nice to slip into his usual routine of waking up around seven to go to the gym, head home to shower, before trudging to _Balmera_ coffee shop for the best coffee Keith's had in his life. This is not the case when Keith stays up to the ungodly hours of the early, early morning, finishing a painting of hollyhock flowers and stars (a subject he, admittedly, paints much too often, especially this time of year).

Keith hasn't even _gone to bed_ by the time his alarm clock starts to scream from across the loft, forcing the bedraggled boy to step away from his art supplies. Tripping over his feet to get that _godawful wailing_ to _fucking stop,_ Keith basically throws himself onto his bed and slams his hand down on the obnoxious device. Why the _fuck_ Keith still owns a shitty alarm clock instead of just using his fucking _phone_ is beyond him.

Melting into the blankets he'd flopped down onto, Keith sighs and allows his muscles to relax and his eyelids flutter shut. It's no surprise when Keith blearily opens his eyes, feeling his phone vibrating violently in his pocket.

Groaning, he adjusts his weight accordingly so as to get his arm out from underneath him and grab the offending object from his pocket. Much to Keith's surprise, when he looks at his phone he has a litany of texts and calls, all from Allura. He glances at the time and immediately understands why. It's almost eleven in the morning, and him and Allura tend to work out or get coffee with one another. Although is not entirely uncommon for one of them to go silent and accidentally sleep in, it certainly causes lots of unnecessary worry.

Unlocking his phone, Keith taps on the messages app and goes to his chat with Allura.

 

**Boss Ass Bitch (Allura)**

(7:06) gym date @ 7:30?

 

(7:10) are you sleeping in or just ignoring me

 

(7:11) either way im offended and youre fired

 

(7:17) im assuming youre hungover or dead or passed out in a gutter somewhere

 

(7:18) if thats the case let me know when you wake up

 

(7:18) take care! <333

 

(8:43) i finished my workout and got home without so much as a text?? are you actually dead???

 

(8:44) the keith kogane I know doesnt sleep past 8

 

(8:58) im actually concerned for your well being

 

(9:01) it just occurred to me that your phone might be dead

 

(9:02) but you very well could also be dead if thats the case

 

(10:32) tying to go on with my day bc youre probably fine but im very worried! keith kogane shouldn’t be asleep until 10:30!!!

 

(10:35) if you dont show up for your shift today im calling the police!!

 

(10:36) and when you show up again youre fired!! and im going to beat you up!!!

 

Along with the myriad of texts, Keith checks his call history to see six missed calls, all from Allura. With a snort at the more and more aggressive messages, Keith types out a response.

 

**Boss Ass Bitch (Allura)**

(10:40) glad you were worried but when have I ever been known to be hungover

 

(10:41) you are literally the only person I talk to and you're my boss

 

(10:41) I’m shocked and appalled you thought I would go out drinking alone

 

(10:41) or drinking in generally really

 

(10:42) you live! and youre fired!

 

(10:43) and ive known you a grand total of five months!!

 

(10:44) just because ive never seen/heard of you being sloshed doesnt mean its nwver happened!!

 

Keith rolls his eyes at his phone.

 

(10:45) sloshed?

 

(10:46) yes sloshed. now tell me what you were doing if it wasn’t getting wasted

 

(10:46) also stop threatening to fire me I’m your favorite worker

 

(10:47) i just got caught up painting late last night

 

(10:47) no alcohol involved

 

(10:47) you arent my favorite worker!! my favorite worker wouldnt give me an aneurysm by not giving me a heads up!!!

 

(10:48) that painting better be the best thing you’ve ever made because you always answer in under an hour

 

Keith finds himself looking to his paint covered canvas, eyes roaming over the violet hollyhocks and galaxies. He’s painted this subject countless times, and he gets more and more accurate each time. It could very well be one of his best, especially because of the emotions he put into it.

When he looks back at his phone he hasn’t realized how long he was reminiscing.

 

**Boss Ass Bitch (Allura)**

 

(10:50) you should send me a pic of some of your work

 

(10:50) ive known you painted for a while but never seen your paintings

 

(10:51) show me what kept you up so late

 

(10:54) i see you reading these don’t ghost me bitch

 

(10:55) maybe

 

(10:56) I don’t really show people my art

 

(10:57) it’s personal

 

(10:58) ok

 

(10:59) you busy or do you want to help coran and i hire new employees

 

(11:01) why on earth would you have me help you hire people

 

(11:02) I have to know if my workers will get along keith. very important

 

(11:03) of course

 

(11:03) gonna have to pass, I need to clean up my paints and then I’ll probably go to balmera or something

 

(11:04) probably take a nap before my shift, actually

 

(11:05) fired

 

(11:06) but yes you should probably get some more rest!! sleep well and let me know if you dont want to work tonight, i can fill your spot

 

(11:07) <333

 

Locking his phone, Keith stuffs his face back into his pillow. He lays there for a while, not wanting to get up just yet.

With a sigh, the ravenette eventually stands from his bed and meanders to his easel, picking up palettes and brushes. He shuffles downstairs to the kitchen sink and begins scrubbing his supplies down, picking paint from under his nails as he went. It really didn't take long for Keith to have finished cleaning, picking up paint covered test pages and crumpled paper towels. He moved the finished piece to lean against the wall, so it could fully dry.

Sparing the sunlit loft a final glance, Keith walks to his closet, digging around for some clean clothes. Satisfied with the black shirt and tight jeans he removes, Keith heads downstairs and into the bathroom, taking a quick shower before he's dressed and out the door you about 11:30, red hoodie in hand.

_Balmera Café_ isn't a long walk away from Keith's apartment. With his apartment being a bit more on the expensive side, he's located in a nice part of town surrounded by small businesses, not too far from University of Altea’s campus. He can walk there and purchase his drink in less than fifteen minutes most days. Adults and college students pass by Keith as he makes his way in the direction of the cafe.

For the most part, Keith avoids touching anyone passing by him. Although he's not trying _too_ hard, he tends to avoid bumping into anyone in fear of awakening a soulbond. He really doesn't want to deal with the expectations he'd receive with a new soulmate. No one can make him stay if he doesn't feel obligated to.

With a chime, Keith opened the door to _Balmera Café_ and strolled in. The coffee shop had a very welcome vibe, plants hung from the ceiling and were put on any available surface. The tables and walls were all shades of muted brown, the colors soft.

The line wasn't too long with most everyone being pretty well into their day, so it didn't take long for Keith to reach the counter.

The dark-skinned barista looked up from the cash register, tucking an even darker strand of hair behind her ear. The strand caught on her large hoop earring, and if she noticed it she didn't acknowledge it as she broke into a large grin, hazel eyes shining. “Good morning, Keith!”

Keith offered a small smile in return with his response. “Hey, Shay.”

“Would you like your usual?” She asks, hands already moving to prepare a simple caramel latte.

“That'd be great, thanks.” Keith pays and moves out of the way as Shay makes his drink and a new customer steps up to the counter. Keith watches her as she whisks in different directions, putting only a small amount of milk into his beverage, and piling on some whipped cream and caramel sauce before covering it.

“Here you are, Keith.” The latte was handed over to Keith before Shay continued with a soft smile, “I put some extra espresso in for you, you look a bit rugged this morning.”

Sighing, Keith rubbed at the dark bags under his eyes. “Thank you, Shay. I was up late painting last night.” He took a sip of his drink, and hummed appreciatively.

“Might I ask what you were painting?” The question itself was innocent, but Keith found himself tensing as he subconsciously reached for his side.

“Just… just a floral painting. I needed to settle nerves and got… carried away.” As much as he tried to keep the tightness out of his voice, he's pretty sure he failed spectacularly.

Thankfully, Shay didn't bring it up. “I do hope you're feeling better, then,” she said softly. “I must get back to work now, I will see you tomorrow, Keith!” In lieu of a verbal response, Keith gave a small, two-fingered wave as he backed away from the counter and towards the door.

The street was still fairly full of people as Keith exited and started to head back to his apartment. He cradled his latte with one hand, the other swinging mindlessly at his side as he zoned out for a bit. The weather was nice. A gentle breeze tugged at Keith's hair as he breathed in the crisp air. Keith was content to stroll slowly down the sidewalk, losing himself to his thoughts.

He's snapped from his reverie when he feels long, delicate fingers brush against his own.

With a small glance to his side, he sees a sun-kissed boy with blue eyes, wrapped up in a green jacket and blue scarf.

Keith had exactly one second to process all of this before he felt the telltale tingle on the right side of his neck.

Eyes widening, the boy, _his romantic soulmate what the fuck,_ stops dead in his tracks.

Keith pushes forward, fighting the fog enveloping his head as a swell of emotions that certainly couldn't belong to him raced through, all too fast to properly process.

Flashes of hope, shock, joy, and _worry_ spun through Keith's head, almost drowning the waves and waves of panic and anxiety he felt.

Throat tight and heart pounding Keith kept forcing his way past people. He couldn’t spare a glance at his romantic, even as the soulbond closed. He felt the foreign emotions fade and it made it easier to breath as he _kept walking away._

It would be fine.

_He_ would be fine.

Keith would never need to meet this stranger ever again.

He wouldn’t get attached.

There would be no _chance_ to get attached.

It would be fine.

He replayed those four words in his mind like a mantra.

Keith resolutely ignored the reopening of the soulbond. He ignored the desperation seeping into his head.

He ignored the frantic calls of a boy looking for his perfect match.

It’s too bad Keith _isn’t_ anyone’s perfect match. Always too distant and reclusive.

That guy was really fucked over by the universe if he’s so desperate to find a complete stranger who had hoped to never find him.

A hand caught Keith’s wrist after a moment, and Keith whips around, his latte slipping from his hand. The woman’s eyes dart to his neck and she must like what she finds because she opens her mouth to call out.

Keith manages to choke out a “please don’t” and her eyes flick up to meet his, whatever she finds there causing her to loosen her grip. Wrenching his arm out of her hold, Keith continues his walk away from the frantic calls.

His eyes feel wet and his mind is in a flurry of panic. Keith had never wanted to meet his romantic, especially not on the day where his festering wound regarding soulmates was so raw.

Even in his turmoil he can’t help but feel guilty for walking away.

He stomps the feeling down.

Immediately after Keith stepped into his apartment, he found a black scarf to tie around his neck and left again. He walked to the nearest store that sold makeup, it was some grocery store down the road from his apartment complex. He bought three containers of pale concealer, a makeup sponge to apply it, and face wipes. Keith probably looked like a mess, bags under his eyes and furrowed brows, hair ruffled from how many times he'd run his hand through it, but at this point he didn't much care.

Making his way back to apartment, Keith felt a trickle of emotion enter his mind, it was questioning and small. It went unanswered as he unlocked his door.

Makeup in hand, he walked straight to the bathroom and flicked on the light. With shaky hands he pulled of the scarf and looked at the new mark on the right side of his neck.

A blood-red rose, rich and lovely, with bright blue forget-me-nots gently curling around it stared back at him. Whitecaps of waves and a small lick of flames lapping gently at the edges of the petals.

Had this mark been on anyone else's skin, he would have marveled at the beauty.

But staring at the colors marring his pale skin, he can only manage to feel sick to his stomach.

With trembling fingers, he instinctively brings his hand up near his neck, wanting to touch but hesitating. Keith needs to confirm to the small voice in the back of his head that the mark is real, he can't do that until he's examined it thoroughly. However, for him to properly look at it from all angles, he'd need to touch it. And that would open his soulbond. After a few moments, Keith elects to settle his fingers on the skin around the mark, and he begins absorbing every detail of it.

There are six forget-me-nots, four of them on the rose’s right side. The flames licking at the edges tend to stay exclusively on the rose, and the waves lap around the forget-me-nots. If someone looks close enough, they could say there are small specks dotting the petals of all the flowers that look like stars.

The longer Keith stares at the soulmark, the more he can feel his anxiety build. As he examines it, he keeps thinking of the fact that he shares this mark with someone. He shares this mark with someone who so desperately wants to know who Keith is, even if Keith himself never wants to see the tan boy with flowers on his neck.

After who knows how long, Keith pulls himself away from the mirror and checks the time. _12:36._ His shift at _Voltron_ isn't until four, so he heads up the loft and crawls into bed, setting an alarm for three fifteen so he has time to change and apply concealer to his neck.

Shoving his anxieties to the back of his mind, he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep.

 

**_________**

 

Lance has been going to college at Altea University for a major in marine biology for four years. He would be getting his bachelor’s degree this year before moving on to grad school to eventually get a master’s.

He and Hunk have shared a two-room, one bathroom apartment for a little over a year now, before then they lived in the dorms together. It’s a simple place, once you walk in the door you’re greeted by a full kitchen that is separated from the living room by an island counter. The living room has a plush, sandy colored carpet and an old turquoise futon couch, a cheap leather recliner, two saggy beanbag chairs, and a thirty dollar coffee table. All the seats mostly face the far wall, which is a glass sliding door that leads to a small balcony patio. On either side of the living room area are two rooms, the one on the left is bigger and belongs to Hunk, while the one on the right is smaller thanks to the space a decently sized bathroom takes up next to it. The smaller room with close access to the bathroom is Lance’s.

College life has been treating them well. Hunk’s had a job at the movie theater for almost a year now, Lance working at the aquarium. Discounted movies and an insane amount of plush fish are some of the few things they have to show for it.

Their senior year is coming up soon, it’s the beginning of August and Lance has his schedule ready for the classes that’ll be starting soon and a plethora of textbooks sitting on the coffee table.

It’s a normal Friday when Lance meanders out of his room around nine in the morning, sans shirt, his hair sticking out at all angles. The apartment smells of pumpkin spice and bacon, the sizzle of something cooking can be heard as he shuffles up behind his big roommate. The larger man squeaks in alarm as two lanky arms wrap around his middle and a nose digs into his back.

“Morning Lance.”

Hunk smiles as something that sounds vaguely like “g’mornin” is mumbled into his back.

“I ground some of the coffee beans,” Hunk says, pointing to the corner where there is a small container with strongly smelling coffee grounds. Lance’s arms immediately retract from around Hunk as he stumbles over to the cabinets and pulls down a mug with “World’s Best Bi” painted on in loopy script. The mug is placed under the small nozzle that will drip coffee while Lance puts the fresh grounds into the machine, hitting _brew._

“I still can’t believe you drink your coffee _black,_ ” Hunk crinkles his nose in distaste as he flips the bacon in the pan.

Lance brings the newly filled mug to his lips and hums contentedly before gulping down half of its contents. “You can’t taint the pure deliciousness of coffee with sugar and milk, you uncultured heathen,” he sighed petulantly.

“I can’t believe you’re a coffee snob.”

“I can’t believe you used to drink pre-ground light roast,” Lance replied, face a look of relaxation but voice lathered in dramatics.

Hunk rolled his eyes, flipping the final pumpkin pancake. “It did it’s job just fine. I was awake for my early classes.” Lance flits out of the way as Hunk dances around the kitchen, getting plates and silverware out of the cupboards and drawers. A light is starting to shimmer lowly in Lance’s gaze as he starts to wake up, exchanging small banter with his platonic.

Mindlessly, as he finishes his coffee and sets his mug in the sink, Lance brings his hand up to settle on his left shoulder. Pressing onto the circular green succulent ingrained there, Lance feels his mind open up and in just a few moments he feels the prickle of returning exasperation and irritation prod his head. He lets good vibes float through, and a moment later he felt brief warmth before the connection was suddenly cut. His shoulders shake with a weak chuckle as he closes his side from the soulbond.

“Pidgey’s feeling extra salty today. Make sure to be _especially_ annoying with her later if you have a chance,” he says, closing his eyes and leaning back against the counter.

“Yeah, I noticed that too. You think she ran into a roadblock on her robotics project again?” Hunk asks, tilting his head as he hands lance a plate of pumpkin pancakes and bacon, smothered in maple syrup.

Mumbling a thanks he leads the way into the living room and plops down on the couch. “Probably, yeah. I kept feeling bits of frustration coming from her last night. I don’t think she was opening our bond on purpose, though.”

Hunk nods. “Me too. I’ll have to see if I can help her get past whatever it is.”

“You work soon?” Lance says after a short lull in the conversation, mouth full and cheeks bulging.

Hunk grimaces at his friend before answering, “First off, gross please don’t talk with your mouth full, second, yeah. I’ll need to leave in about,” he glances at his phone screen for a moment, “five hours or so? Yeah.”

Lance scrunches his nose as he takes an aggressive bite of his pancakes. “What time is it?”

“Almost 9:30. Your shift doesn’t start til what, 12:00?”

“Mhm,” Lance forgoes words as his mouth is currently full. Swallowing, he continues, “Aw, Hunky, I didn’t know you cared enough to memorize my schedule!”

“First of all, we’ve shared living space with each other for what, almost four years total now? Of course I know your work schedule,” Hunk unceremoniously shoves his plate at him, “and two, you’re on dish duty. MarioKart until you need to go?”

“Hell yeah.”

Two hours later leaves Lance frantically getting dressed in his work attire (blue jeans and a cool fish shirt with his name on the back) and running out the door, calling farewell to Hunk. Making his way down the stairs, Lance shoves his arm through his jacket sleeves and ties a blue scarf around his neck as an afterthought.

The pace he sets should have him arriving at the aquarium about ten minutes early. Lance is almost always perpetually late, so he always makes an effort to be conscious of when he leaves the apartment and how long it’ll take him to get to his destination, more so than others.

People mill about, walking by Lance or sneaking past him to enter the local businesses lined up along the road. It’s midday on a Friday, so there are more people than usual. School hasn’t started but most of the college students who’ll be attending either the Garrison or Altea University have already moved into the area, leaving bored young-adults free to shuffle around town.

Lance is nearing a café that Pidge had once dragged him to when he checks the time. It’s about 11:45, giving him plenty of time to keep his fairly slow pace and still get to work five minutes early.

He’s just pulling his hand away after pocketing his phone when he feels a brush of skin against skin. Not an unusual occurrence, and most certainly nothing Lance would bat an eye at.

That is, until he’s swamped by the strongest bout of foreign emotions he’s ever experienced.

There’s a telltale tingling on his neck.

Lance freezes, eyes wide as he quickly picks through the stranger’s emotions and can only find wave after wave of panic and anxiety.

His own thoughts are foggy, hope and tentative joy are really the only emotions that belong to him he can properly decipher.

It’s so overwhelming.

This isn’t what other soulbond connections felt like, the feelings from the other person weren’t ever this strong, and it nearly knocked Lance right on his ass.

After just a few long, _long_ seconds Lance feels the fog that settled over his mind dissipate.

Lance turned, happiness and concern battling for his dominant emotion as he looked for the owner of the tumultuous feelings that tumbled through his head. But that person was his romantic, and Lance had been waiting for _so long_.

Cobalt eyes darted around, observing the faces and necks of anyone around him. No one was standing still. No one in his line of sight had any marks on their necks.

Worry ended up winning the battle in his head as he reached up and put a hand on his new soulmark, the soulbond opening on his end only.

“Who just—” Lance felt desperation as he started to grab the shoulders of people near him, gaining attention on the crowded street. “My soulmate— I just— we just met,” his voice grew louder, and more frantic. People around him stared, some moved, others gave him pitying looks before moving on with their day.

Lance couldn’t find them. He turned every person in his immediate reach towards him, looking at their necks before moving on.

This couldn’t be happening.

When Lance dreamed of meeting his romantic, it wasn’t like this.

It was supposed to be perfect.

_They_ were going to be perfect, like his Mamá knew they could be.

Tears pricked at Lance’s eyes and his throat felt dry.

The excitement died down quickly, and a few people stuck around and offered Lance kind words of reassurance.

With a fake smile and forced “thank you”s, Lance turned away and continued his trek to the aquarium.

When he got to work five minutes late with uncharacteristically dim eyes, no one brought it up.

About two hours into his shift, a coworker shooed him away from the gift shop register and told him to take a small break.

He went to the the staff’s breakroom, a room tucked behind the gift shop counter. The room had a table and chairs, some counter space, cabinets, and a worn-out couch. There was a hidden bathroom that wasn’t too special, just the easiest place for employees to get to from behind the register.

Lance made a beeline to the bathroom. Flicking on the light as he entered, he didn’t bother to close the door since he just needed to look in the mirror.

The first thing Lance noticed was the blood-red rose. It was deep, and gorgeous, a flower that was supposed to represent his romantic. The bright blue forget-me-nots were expected, as those are the flowers that represent him. With hesitant fingers Lance reached up and prodded at the mark, shifting the skin and stretching the colors. His bond was open and questioning, although he didn’t expect anything in return.

As he inspects the mark as closely as he can, he notices the faintest lick of flames and barely noticeable whitecaps curling around the petals.

Lance pulls his hand away to fish his phone out of his pocket. With shaky fingers, Lance pulls up a group chat.

 

**The Three Amigops**

(2:03) so smthn happened today

 

(2:03) Image.png

 

Lance spared one last glance at his soulmark before he pockets his phone and leaves the bathroom. He plasters on his best smile again before he emerges behind the counter once again and continues his job manning the register. There’s a lull in customers when he’s finally given a chance to look at his phone again.

 

**The Three Amigops**

(2:07) **the best of us:**!!!

 

(2:08) **the best of us:** When??? How??

 

(2:10) **trash panda:** i pity the poor soul stuck with you as a soulmate

 

(2:10) **trash panda:** akskdowphf

 

(2:11) **trash panda:** congraultaions lacen!! im so happ y for u!!!!

 

(2:13) **trash panda:** hunk took my phone so i bit him

 

(2:13) **trash panda:** ok but for real ,,, tell me who i gotta look up

 

(2:14) **trash panda:** i need to find years worth of blackmail material to make sure they treat u right ,,,

 

(2:37) what is this???

 

(2:37) pidge???

 

(2:38) caring?? about me??? a lowly peasant????

 

(2:39) **the best of us:** Kindness? In my pidge?

 

(2:40) its more likely than you think

 

(2:41) **trash panda:** i changed my mind

 

(2:43) ok ok but i actually have no clue abt who they r?? we bumped hands or sm shit and then i coudnt find them

 

(2:44) im just kinda worried ,,, and sad???

 

(2:45) **the best of us:** Wait when u were on the street? How long ago did this happen?

 

(2:45) **trash panda:** why are u worried? that bitch just fuxkin left u and ur worried?? wtf

 

(2:46) it may have happened hours ago

 

(2:46) while i was walkin to wokr

 

(2:47) and im worried bc they were super scared??

 

(2:48) the only feelings i got from them weee panic and anxitey

 

(2:49) fuck i got cutsomrs i ne

 

Lance didn’t finish his frantic typing before he hit send and shoved his phone back in his pocket. The mindless job that was ringing up stuffed fish helped pull Lance from the nervousness he felt regarding his soulmate.

Shortly after he finished helping customers, Lance was pulled away by his manager asking him if he’d be willing to take over one of the educational shows, this one was on sharks. This was a job Lance was used to getting because of how much he knows about the animal, and because of his bubbly, approachable personality. So with a smile that was now much less forced, Lance silences his phone, puts on the mic, and wanders out in front of a bunch of excited children. For the rest of the afternoon, Lance does the show at different times, talking with children one on one after them, and answering any more questions they might have. It’s nearing the end of his shift when he’s finally waved away the last child and her parents.

“How you manage to walk into work looking like shit and end the day with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen is beyond me.”

Lance looks up to see a tanned woman with shoulder length brown hair, dyed blue at the tips. Some of the exhaustion Lance had been feeling must be starting to show on his face, because Plaxum gives him a small look of pity.

“Kids make me happy,” Lance says simply. “ _And_ I’ve been to way too many boring as hell fish shows, so I try.”

The woman huffs out a laugh. “Don’t want to ward them away with boring fish facts huh?”

It’s comfortably quiet when Lance follows Plaxum away from the shark exhibit and towards the gift shop. The closer they get to their destination, the more it feels like Plaxum wants to ask something. He can tell that she’s searching for the right words to ask, and that he’s probably not going to like them.

“So,” she starts hesitantly, “what’s going on with you today?” Lance was right. He didn’t like them.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just tired is all.”

Doubt clouded Plaxum’s eyes as he risked a glance at her. “You sure? There was an unspoken agreement not to bring it up, but—”

“Plax, please, I’m fine,” Lance cuts her off with a forced tone. “Just an off day, really.”

She maintains eye contact with him, searching his eyes for something before glancing at his new soulmark. “If you say so. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

They reach the gift shop and slide into the back room. Lance heads to the couch where he’d draped his coat and scarf over and tosses them on. He then pulls his phone out to see messages from the group chat, most of them telling Lance to give them a better explanation of the situation. Ignoring those, he pulls up his chat with Allura.

 

**Step on me Queen**

(8:07) mind if i swing thru voltron??

 

(8:07) shit went down this morning babe

 

Lance says goodbye to Plaxum and leaves, leaving her to lock up the aquarium for the night. There’s security workers who stick around but closing up is left to the day employees.

 

Not even bothering to wait on a response from Allura, Lance is already walking in the direction of the restaurant.

 

**Step on me Queen**

(8:10) babe of course?? you better fill me in

 

(8:11) in my office walk right in <33

 

(8:12) be ready ita a shitstorm

 

(8:13) always

 

**_________**

 

Keith’s day has been kind of shitty.

He was up all night trying to shove down painful memories of his mother, the burden of soulmates heavy on his mind, before he was assaulted by the opening of a new soulbond and the accompanying guilt. He didn’t even get to finish his drink which would have totally been the day’s highlight.

It’s too bad after a fitful three hour nap Keith had to drag himself to _Voltron_ for work.

By around 8:00 that evening Keith is _done._

While he was serving tables and wandering into the kitchen, he couldn’t help but notice his growling stomach. It was then he realized he hadn’t eaten _anything_ all day.

He was more ashamed of the fact that this was a fairly normal occurrence for him.

So, he brushed it off to deal with more present problems. Like the fact that multiple parents had complained to him about a broken token machine in the connected arcade, and he’s been there and back to fix it at least fifteen times throughout his shift.

Keith was on his way over to fix the machine for a sixteenth time, weariness weighing him down considerably. It took him barely even a minute to fix the problem and give an irritated mother her tokens.

With a satisfied nod at the machine, he turned to get back to waiting tables when someone whisked by him, shoving him with their shoulder as they passed. Keith stumbled, whipping his head up to glare at the back of whoever it was who had run into him. All he saw was the retreating back of a guy wearing a tropical fish covered shirt that said “Lance” on the back in big white lettering, a coat tucked in his arms.

If the guy wasn’t moving at breakneck speed to Allura’s office like a man on a mission, Keith would have shrugged it off with mild irritation and gone on with his job. But he was, and Keith was shortly following at an irritated walk.

The guy had reached the door much before Keith did and was now leaning on it with most of his weight, slamming one fist on it rapidly. The breath was knocked from Keith’s lungs when he heard the guy speak, “Allura! I have important things to share with you!”

Dread pulled at Keith’s limbs as the door opened, and the guy fell, steadying and turning so his right side faces Keith.

Everything around him was at a standstill. His vision blurred around the edges. He couldn’t believe his luck. Of fucking _course_.

Painted on the guy’s tan neck, was a rose and forget-me-nots.

Everything spun as a dizzying wave of anxiety slammed full-force into Keith. He tripped over his feet and managed to catch himself, swaying slightly as he looked at the ground, trying to regain control of the swirling in his head.

There was a steadying hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up he met the worried blue eyes of Allura. Keith couldn’t breathe and his stomach was doing somersaults. Distantly aware that Allura was talking, he focused on her face, brows furrowed. The woman appeared to give up on trying to talk to him as she led him to her office, carefully sitting him down on a sofa in the corner.

Keith leaned his head onto the back of the couch, scrunching his eyes closed as he willed the pounding in his ears to stop. It felt like a lifetime before Keith regained his control and opened his eyes.

Allura stood before him, her hair pulled up into a large ponytail and her eyes filled with concern. A cup of water was in her hand, and she gently passed it to him when he looked at her. He mumbled a quiet “thanks” as he gratefully accepted the glass, bringing it to his lips and downing it quickly. Once he’d finished, she took it from him and placed it on her desk, which is when he finally noticed the guy sitting behind it in the swivel chair. Keith forced down the reemerging panic, and reminded himself that his own soulmark was covered. They didn’t know.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Allura broke the silence with soft spoken questions.

Sighing, Keith lies. “I just had a dizzy spell. I’m fine,” he finishes by crossing his arms and looking anywhere but Allura.

There was a scoff to his left and he found his gaze being drawn to the other boy. “You’re a shit liar, dude.”

Taken aback, Keith narrowed his eyes, glaring at the other. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Lance.” Lance brought his hands up in a placating manner, “I’m just saying, that was the least convincing lie I’ve seen in my life, and I’m an uncle. I know these things.”

Keith grinds his teeth, preparing to deliver a scathing retort when his eyes flick to the other’s neck. Whatever he was going to say withers on his tongue and he looks to Allura instead. “I really am fine. I can finish my shift without an issue.”

“You nearly fainted. And I know you didn’t sleep last night, Keith,” Allura responded.

“I slept before I came to work. I’m _fine._ ”

“Did you not go to Balmera?”

“I did. Then I slept when I got home.”

“You slept after you got coffee?” Allura’s voice was disbelieving and her face was exasperated.

“I didn’t get to finish it. There was… a commotion outside the café,” Keith said hesitantly, glancing at Lance who was sitting behind Allura’s desk before he could think about it.

Allura noticed and looked at him just as he winced, reaching up to place his hand on his soulmark. Keith felt foreign embarrassment and some sadness float into his head, and he shifted uncomfortably, ignoring the persistent anxiety at the back of his mind.

Allura narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him and Lance, and Keith just shrugged. “I was bumped into by someone trying to help find uh, someone’s missing soulmate... and I dropped my coffee,” Keith is momentarily distracted when Lance’s sadness grows before abruptly ending as he brings his hand away from his neck. “Then I got home and went to sleep before I had to come here, for work”

Lance’s brows creased then, appearing to have caught on quicker than Allura. “Did you eat anything?” Damnit.

Face warming at an alarming rate, Keith merely shrugged and looked at the wall.

“Keith! You can’t just forget to eat!” Allura said, raising her voice. After a moment of silence, Allura covers her face with her hand and mutters, “You’re a walking disaster. I should’ve checked up on you. I know better.”

Keith felt his own embarrassment this time as Allura goes into yet another lecture on how Keith needs to take better care of himself. His embarrassment increases when Lance starts to laugh.

Cutting off her rant with a sigh, Allura sends a disapproving glare at Keith before walking out of the office.

Lance is still snickering to himself behind the desk as Keith’s head whips around to look at him. “What?”

“I get Allura’s Mom Lectures™ too. For someone who really doesn’t like kids, she’d be really good with them.”

Keith furrows his brows. “Did you just say ‘T M’ out loud?” This forces a laugh out of Lance.

“Yeah? So?”

Keith shrugs rather aggressively and turns away. It’s quiet now and Keith feels tense as Lance’s eyes roam over him.

“Are you two soulmates?” Keith says after a moment, surprising himself. Something about Lance (Keith knows exactly what it is) makes him want to know more about him. Keith doesn’t like that. “You guys seem close.”

Lance shakes his head. “No, just close family friends. We’ve known each other since elementary school, but,” he pauses before continuing, “honestly? I think we’re platonics who just… don’t have a soulbond, if that makes sense.”

It didn’t make sense, but Keith simply nodded as if it did. Soulmates don’t make sense, not to Keith.

Lance looks like he’s waiting for Keith to say more, but Keith keeps his mouth sealed. He’s relieved when Allura enters again, holding a plate with a simple burger and fries set atop it.

“Someone changed their order pretty abruptly, so there was an extra meal prepared.” She handed Keith the plate and went to sit on the desktop. Keith could feel his mouth water at the smell of the still warm food, and suddenly his hunger was back full force.

As he ate, Keith listened to the other two talk.

“So you met your romantic?” Allura spoke cautiously, like one would approach a spooked animal.

Keith glanced over to see Lance running a hand through his hair, a weak smile on his face. “Yea. Well no— not exactly?” At Allura’s confused face he elaborated. “Our hands touched while I was walking to work. The bond opened and all I felt from them was panic. I tried to find them and others around me helped but…” Lance trailed off.

“Was that the ‘commotion’ outside of _Balmera_ today?” Allura prodded gently. Lance nodded.

“And they just left?” Allura sounded surprised. “Do you know what they look like?”

Keith tensed until Lance responded, “No, I don’t.”

“Why would they just leave you?” Allura’s voice was edging on angry now. It made Keith flinch.

“Calm down. I’m fine,” Lance said easily. “It’s really not a big deal—”

Allura looks at lance like he’s grown two heads. Her voice is sharp, disappointed, but still quiet. “It _is_ though, Lance! I’ve listened to you talk about this person your entire life, you’ve looked forward to the day that you two meet and they just walk away—”

Shrugging, Lance cuts her off. “I don’t blame them.”

She stops her rant and looks at him curiously, both of them seemingly forgetting Keith is there. “What do you mean? Are you saying this is your fault?”

“No, that’s not—”

“Because it isn’t, Lance. The blame falls on your romantic because they simply left.”

“No, Allura, I said I don’t bla—”

“They didn’t even try to stay around and meet you! Or explain themsel—”

“I don’t blame them, Allura!” Lance’s sudden rise in volume makes Keith jump in his seat, and Allura begrudgingly falls silent. “They were _afraid,_ Allura! They weren’t ready to meet me and that’s _fine._ I’m not gonna be angry at them for not being ready.”

Keith was tense and uncomfortable as he looked from Allura to Lance. They seemed to be having a conversation with just facial expressions, one that he couldn’t keep up with. Lance finally spoke up, his voice blank. “Can we talk about this later? Please?” He spared a glance at Keith, who quickly busied himself with finishing his meal, before looking back at Allura.

Lance’s brow was creased, mouth in a tight line. After a moment, Allura sighed and relented, turning to Keith. “You’re done working for the night. I’ll let Lance give you a ride home.”

“I don’t have a car, Allura,” the other boy protested.

“Use mine,” she said simply, “you know where the keys are. And tell Hunk I’m visiting your apartment tonight!” With that the dark-skinned woman marched out into the restaurant, presumably to takeover Keith’s shift.

Now that Allura has left Keith in Lance’s hands, Keith couldn’t push the anxiety down as easily. Since his friend wouldn’t be a distraction from his romantic any longer, he’d have to face Lance without a buffer.

Lance spoke up unexpectedly, causing Keith to startle. “You wanna glare at the door for a while longer or can we go?”

“What?”

Shrugging, Lance reached into the desk and pulled out a lanyard decorated with colorful mice and immediately began swinging it on his fingers. “I’m just waiting on you. Say the word and we’re out of here, Mullet.”

Keith’s eyes widened in both confusion and offense. “ _Mullet?_ ”

“Yep,” Lance answered, popping the “p”, “your hair is an atrocity, it’s all split ends and sadness.”

A bit self-consciously, Keith ran his hand through his hair. The action caused Lance to bark out a laugh as he walked out from behind the desk.

“For real though, you ready to go man?” He asked again after he’d stopped chuckling. Keith nodded in response.

“Uh, just let me bring this to the kitchen quick and I’ll meet you by Allura’s car,” he said after a second, motioning to the empty plate in his hand.

With a thumbs up and a smile, Lance was out the office door.

Shortly after, Keith was exiting the restaurant and walking to the far reaches of the parking lot where Allura parked. Her car was a light blue Buick, and it didn’t take him long to find Lance leaned against the trunk, typing something rapidly. He looked up as Keith got closer, and slid around the the driver’s side door, unlocking the vehicle and hopping in. Keith followed a little more hesitantly, he hadn’t been in Allura’s car very often and he wasn’t quite as comfortable being in it as Lance.

Keith’s tense as Lance pulls out of the parking lot. Since he’s in the passenger seat, he gets a perfect view of the soulmark on Lance’s neck and it’s making him feel sick.

“It has just occurred to me that I don’t know where you live.”

Keith startles in his seat.

Oh my _god,_ why is Keith so _jumpy_ today?

Lance laughs at Keith’s reaction. “Are you,” he’s struggling to talk, drive, and laugh at the same time, “always this jumpy? Anytime I talk you’re flipping the fuck out!”

Groaning, Keith snaps out a tired retort. “I’ve had a long day, you’re unnecessarily _loud,_ and I have the social capabilities of a turtle when I’m _not_ half-dead.” The other is still shaking slightly in his seat, a broad smile on his face.

“Okay, dude,” he says once he’s calmed down, waving a hand at him when they stop at a stoplight, going the _opposite_ way from Keith’s apartment, “seriously, where do you live?”

“...We’re going the wrong way,” Keith says evenly, doing a fine job at hiding just how anxious spending more time in the same car with his soulmate-who-doesn’t-know-he’s-his-soulmate makes him.

Lance’s brows furrow, and his lip curls up a bit in confusion. “Where do you live? I just kind of assumed you lived on campus because you give off the broke college student vibe.” By this time, they’d started forward again and are nearing the next light, which is when Lance flicks on his turn signal and completely disregards the “no U-turns” sign.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Keith all but yells, grabbing onto the center console and holding himself upright using the door. “There was a—”

“Keith, my guy, my dude, there’s no one else on the road. We’re _fine,_ ” is Lance’s much too calm answer. Huffing, Keith forces his muscles to relax and he glares out the window.

“You know the complex on main?” He says after a moment. He sees Lance nod from the corner of his eye. “That’s where I live.”

“Oh cool! Me and my buddy Hunk have lived in one of the smaller doubles there for about two years now,” Lance says, his voice conversational. “When’d you move in?”

“Uh, sometime in spring?” Keith nods after a moment, answering his own question. “Yeah.”

He received a hum of acknowledgement from the other before the only noise was the faint whir of the car engine as they drove.

“So, what are you going to school for?” Lance said after some fidgeting.

“Well, I was studying at The Garrison—”

“What? That’s so cool!” Lance’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Did you graduate?”

“Uh, no it— it wasn’t for me, y’know? I tried for three years and it just wasn’t what I wanted, I guess,” Keith answered, wincing a bit.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah,” Lance nodded, a bit frantically. “My first year at Altea I was majoring in astronomy and astrophysics, but I realized after the first semester it just wasn't my thing. So now I’m studying marine biology.”

“Cool.” Was Keith’s eloquent response.

After a bit of silence (Keith was grateful of it, it made it easier to stare out the window and not at the mark) Lance pulled in behind the apartment complex, the lot was pretty barren as most people used the supplied parking garage.

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” Keith said awkwardly, reaching for the door handle.

“No problem! Not like I had a choice anyway,” Lance replied easily. “So I’ll see you around, then?”

That gave Keith reason to pause as he stepped out of the car, he quirked a confused brow at Lance.

“Because we’re in the same complex, I mean. We’ll probably run into each other eventually, right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Keith stood up and quickly closed the door, _without even saying ‘goodbye’ what is his problem,_ waving as he turned and headed to the complex’s entrance. He could feel Lance’s gaze boring into his back as he fumbled with his keys, eventually managing to unlock it. Opening the door, he felt his shoulders relax as he heard Lance drive away.

Stepping into his apartment after climbing the steps to the fifth floor, Keith leans back against the door.

If there was a part of him that really wanted to see Lance again, Keith mercilessly tramped down the feeling and started getting ready for bed.

He really hopes to never see the other boy again.

 

**________**

 

Keith is… something.

All Lance knows is he definitely wants to see him again.

Lance was left to mull over the entire interaction he’d shared with the boy on his drive back to Voltron, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Keith was pretty snippy, he had a temper that would flare when he felt Lance was so much as looking at him oddly. He seemed confident and snarky, but then he’d glance Lance’s way. He’d shut down. Become uncomfortable, or anxious. His eyes would flash with panic until he’d look anywhere but at Lance.

With Allura, the other was comfortable. He was stubborn. But then Lance would speak up, and Keith would pull back into himself.

When Allura left the two of them alone, Keith didn’t know what to do. Lance was going to let Keith stew in his uncomfortable silence, but the boy surprised them both when he’d suddenly spoken up. It seemed out of character, Lance thought.

But conversation with Keith felt _easy._

He was awkward and hesitant but it seemed so simple.

Suffice to say, Lance was intrigued by the dark-haired boy.

Sure, that made him feel guilty because he had literally met his romantic soulmate _that morning._ In Lance’s defense though, they didn’t really _meet_ did they?

It’s been a long day.

Pulling into the _Voltron_ parking lot once again, Lance turns off the ignition and grabs his phone. He had been in the middle of texting Hunk about Allura coming over that night when Keith had come out of the restaurant, so he pulls up his chat with the other.

 

**Hunka burnin’ Love**

(8:40) yo alluras poppin in tonight

 

(8:40) tht ok?

 

(8:41) she wants allllllll the deets

 

(8:42) Of course it’s fine!

 

(8:42) I haven’t seen her in too long

 

After seeing Hunk’s message, Lance drops his phone into the cup holder and leans his head back in the seat. Eyes closed, he lets his mind wander. Ultimately, he ends up thinking of his romantic, much like he had all day when given the chance to think.

Opening his eyes just a fraction, staring at the steering wheel in front of him, Lance tentatively brings his hand up to his neck. Once his fingers make contact with the colorful skin there, he feels his mind open. When you open your mind to a soulbond, everything feels almost free, and soft. No matter the emotions you have running through your head, you can feel the edges of your mind blur. Right now, the blurriness of his mind gives way to a gentle feeling. It’s not an emotion per se, but rather a hum in the back of Lance’s mind. His soulmate hasn’t opened their end of the bond, but Lance can feel _something._ Like reaching out in a dark room and feeling your fingers brush over something soft, and smooth. You can’t define what it is, and you can’t press forward and find any important details in the object, but you know something is _there_.

Lance lets his tiredness, his disappointment, his worry, _everything_ he’s felt that day seep out of his head and into whatever space might be between him and his soulmate. Even if he gets nothing in return, Lance feels content to bask in the pleasant feeling of just sharing whatever he feels. It’s nice to know someone knows how he feels, he can share all he wants, stop whenever he needs to, and it fills him with calm.

The car is still warm when he hears the door open, and feels the cold air whoosh in. He starts awake, though he’s not really sure when he had fallen asleep, taking his hand away from his throat. When he looks to the passenger side he sees Allura hopping in, placing her purse at her feet.

“We need to go to Coran’s so I can change and grab some things before we head to your place,” she says as soon as she knows she has Lance’s attention.

“Why am I driving? This is your car!” Lance exclaims rather petulantly.

“Because you chose to fall asleep in the driver’s seat.”

He scoffs. “I didn’t fall asleep. Do you know how bad that would be for my back?” Lance turns the key in ignition. “Why are you done so early tonight?”

The offhand question is met with silence, and Lance shoots a confused glance at Allura as he backs out of the space again. Her face is void of emotion.

Lance knows that expression. It’s her you’re-so-dumb-what-is-wrong-with-you-face. That’s why he immediately gets defensive. “What?”

“Lance. It’s 11:15. Voltron is closing for the night,” she then gestures to the lot around them, “and everyone has left.”

Sure enough, when he glances at the digital clock on the dash, it’s 11:15. “I can’t believe I fell asleep in this uncomfortable, cramped, car. I thought I had higher standards than this!” Lance whines.

“Oh hush, you’re fine,” she scoffs. “Get going, I’m not spending the night in my car.”

Driving out of the parking lot and heading towards one of the nicer suburbs, where Allura lives with Coran, Lance squawks in offense. “So sleeping in the car isn’t fine if it’s you?”

“I assume Keith got home just fine, then?”

“Hey, don’t change the subject.” Lance grumbles, side-eying Allura irritably. At her unimpressed look he answers her question. “Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “Did you know he lives in the same apartment building as me and Hunk?”

That gives Allura time for pause, and she’s quiet for long enough that Lance had forgotten he’d asked her a question. “I never really thought about it. I have information on his housing since he’s an employee but I’ve never visited his apartment.”

“How well do you even know the guy?” Lance flicks on a turn signal, turning right and onto a neighborhood street.

“We occasionally get coffee and work out,” she paused before adding more under her breath, “he probably wouldn’t survive if I didn’t keep checking in on him.” This pulls a chuckle from Lance as he carefully pulls into the driveway of a fairly large, white, house.

“Do you feed him like you did tonight regularly?” Lance asks, one brow raised high and a smirk dancing on his lips.

She sighs. “Yes. I’m surprised that boy hasn’t died out on his own yet.”

After their brief conversation, Allura scoots out of the car and whisks inside. Lance stays seated in the running car, waiting for her to grab whatever she might need and change out of her work attire. It hasn’t even been ten minutes when Allura comes out dressed in fuzzy pink pajama pants and a much-too-large shirt. Lance backs out and heads in the direction of his apartment building. The drive is quiet this time, Lance sitting comfortably behind the wheel and Allura fiddling with the straps of her small drawstring bag.

Soon, they’re parking next to Hunk’s clunky, yellow van and heading into the building. The climb up the stairs to the second floor is easy, and the pair make it to the door and unlock it at a slow meander.

“We’re here Big guy! How was work?” Lance calls into the apartment upon entering, slipping his shoes off and hanging up his coat and scarf.

Allura’s already situated comfortably on the couch when Lance steps into the kitchen, hearing the thump of Hunk doing something in his room. Moments later finds Hunk sprinting out of his room and slamming his hands down on the island counter Lance had draped himself tiredly across. “Tell me everything that happened. And show me the mark.” And after a few moments of hesitation, Hunk sheepishly adds, “And work was fine."

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can ask questions about lore/backstory on my [tumblr](https://grapefruitgalaxy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> 03/05/18 edit: I’m still working on this fic! just not sure when the next chapter will be out, I’ve written and rewritten it multiple times and I’m just not happy with the direction it’s been going. hoping that I can finish it soonish (maybe tonight if all goes well) but that’s unlikely
> 
> just know that it will be updated!! love <333


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